


Competition

by pastomatoes



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: American and Canada are dorks ig, Human & Country Names Used, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I have no shame, I love this pairing, I'll apologize ahead of time, Late Night Writing, M/M, PWP, Shameless Smut, Smut, both are competitive af, don't let me write after midnight, idk why this happened, no clue what inspired this but here you go, there's no stopping me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 20:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5262779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastomatoes/pseuds/pastomatoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred and Matthew have been in a competition to prove to the other that he's the best- The problem is, they've been tied for months. Alfred gets creative.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Competition

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't done a thorough edit of this yet, so I'll go ahead and apologize. I'm tired, so editing will have to wait but, for now, enjoy the pathetic product of me writing after midnight!

"Still tied," Matthew said bitterly, crossing off 'basketball' from a crumbled up piece of notebook paper with so much force that the tip of his pencil snapped and sent graphite splintering across the sheet. 

Alfred huffed through his nose and slammed the refrigerator door shut with more force than was absolutely necessary- although, if he thought about it, he always used more force than was absolutely necessary. "Guesso," he said in a sarcastically sing-song tone, popping open a can of Coca Cola before taking his place on the kitchen counter. The two had been ruthlessly competing for months, trying every sport they could think of to prove to the other that he was the strongest, the biggest, the baddest (hell, they had even tried _cricket_ ). 

But the two were tied, even after many games of basketball, baseball, soccer ("It's football, you insufferable git!"), (American) football, rugby, and hockey. Every time one of them won, they'd try out another sport, only to have the other win _that_ one. The cycle went on and on.

Needless to say, they were running out of things to try and were constantly making snarky comebacks at each other, always at the other's throat- It drove everyone at the meetings crazy, particularly England (though France found it particularly amusing). They were growing desperate and itched to end this ongoing competition.

Alfred was quiet (silent Alfred was scarier than loud Alfred). Matthew was too weary to comment, afraid of what was being plotted. Finally, after moments that dragged on forever, the American said nonchalantly, "How 'bout let's see who can last the longest?"

"Eh?" Matthew snapped, still blowing off steam after losing a game of basketball. He looked up to glare at Al, who sat swinging his legs on the kitchen counter.

"I _said_ : Let's see who can last the longest." 

"You mean like who can hold their breath under water the longest?" Matthew demanded, clueless and flustered. He scowled at the piece of paper, scanning it. "Already tried that," he said dismissively, not bothering to mention that Alfred had completely _owned_ him at that. It really hadn't been a fair competition; Alfred spent all of his time on the coasts with his seemingly never-ending summers!

"Nuh-uh," Alfred said, a grin spreading across his face as he ran his tongue along his bottom teeth and shook his head. He hopped off the kitchen counter and sauntered over to Matthew, bracing his hands on the table and leaning forward until Matthew grew red with how close he was. "Nuh-uh… I mean let's see who can hold off on _coming_ the longest."

Matthew smiled as the words settled in his brain, looking up innocently at Al through his batting blond eyelashes. "I don't think that would be fair, Alfie…" he said lowly, his tone smoothly shifting to sultry and heated. 

"Why not, Mattie-bear?" Alfred whispered back, matching the Canadian's patronizing voice. His bottom lip slid into an inviting pout. 

"Well," Matthew said, dropping his pencil and fitting his palm against the back of Alfred's neck, bringing him closer, "we both know how easy it is for me to make you melt. Don't you remember how you begged and cried for my cock the other night, you greedy little thing?"

"Mm…" Alfred agreed, swaying and leaning forward until his nose fitted right next to Matt's. "Yeah, babe, I remember how you screamed my name when I rode you into oblivion, too… Guess you're not as quiet as you let on. Don't tell me you need a reminder?" 

Matthew chuckled, letting his lips brush against America's. "Don't forget that you came just by rutting yourself against my boot like a bitch in heat… All while sucking me off, too. You looked like such a whore-"

"-and you came down my throat two seconds later. You stopped making fun of how quickly I eat when you found out I don't have a gag reflex, didn't you? 's like my throat was made for your cock… Could suck you off all day, baby; I love how you taste."

"Fuck, Al," Matt growled as his dick stirred. 

"Yeah," Alfred murmured, throwing his leg over Canada's waist to sit in his lap, his thighs hugging the man. "Yeah, Mattie, fuck me, fuck me 'til I can't walk straight." The American wrapped his arms around his neck and he kissed him roughly- hungrily- their glasses clinking clumsily against each other.

"You gonna ride me?" Matt panted as Al pulled away from his mouth (not before tugging Matt's lip with his teeth) and proceeded to kiss down the Canadian's jaw, sucking and nipping lewdly at his bobbing Adam's apple. "You gonna ride me like all those _fuck!_ -ing Western movies you're so obsessed with?" he demanded, voice jumping and hips rutting up when Al gave a particularly hard bite to his neck. The American hummed an affirmative, kissing the wound wetly. 

Matthew remembered the challenge- whoever came first lost- and groped leisurely at Alfred's ass, appreciating the firmness of it as he hoisted the man up onto the table with such suddenness that the American yelped. 

"I know why you like riding me," Matt told him, smiling as he pushed Alfred onto his back after removing both of their glasses and tugging that obnoxious Captain America shirt over Alfred's head. He threw it onto the tile; not a second passed after Alfred was shirtless before Matthew had latched his teeth around one of the American's nipples, biting it until the man whimpered and then soothing it with his tongue. "I know it's 'cause it hits your spot _so perfectly_ , don't it?"

Alfred nodded desperately, his eyes clenched shut as he buried his hands in Matt's hair, trying to force the man lower. Matthew complied, pressing open-mouthed kisses down sun-kissed abs, stopping to suck a hickey on one of Al's hips (the Canadian loved Al's hips, if only because of the endearing extra chub that always resided there, no matter how much Al worked out). 

Matthew had barely unbuttoned and unzipped Alfred's jeans before he was being pushed away. "Strip and switch me," Alfred commanded as he sat up, scooted to the end of the table, jumped off, and dropped to his knees on the tile floor. Matt let out a stuttered breath and peeled off his flannel and jeans before laying on his back on the table. His breath hitched in his throat when America grabbed his ankles and yanked him down until his legs were over Al's shoulders. Alfred smirked. 

Canada knew that smirk.

That smirk meant Alfred intended to blow him until he forgot his name. 

Matt let his head drop against the tabletop with a resounding _thud_ , knowing that if he watched it would make not coming an even more impossible task. Alfred's tongue lapped at the head of his cock, wrapping around it and pressing into the slit until Matt's back arched off the table and he had to make fists with his hands, digging his nails into his palms.

" _Tabernac_ ," he cursed, biting his lip until he tasted blood. Alfred's hand pumped his dick once, twice, and then his lips wrapped firmly around the tip. Matthew tried to prepare himself, but really, no matter how many times the man went down on him, he would always be stunned silent when Alfred- in a single motion- _took his dick in to the hilt._

Matthew cried out a guttural moan. He would never tire of being completely deep-throated, especially considering Alfred was the only one who had ever been able to do it. His nose pressed against Matt's skin and he just _stayed there_ , letting Matt feel his throat swallowing around his length (which was longer but not as thick as his own) before allowing it to slide out of his mouth, only to take it back in again, as eagerly as if it were his life source. 

Alfred held firmly onto Matt's thighs to keep him from wriggling too much, though even when Matt's hips thrusted on their own accord, the American barely seemed to choke. "Oh, _Christ_ ," Matt purred as America pulled off his dick to kiss down the side of it, sloppy and wet. 

Matthew was losing his breath, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He felt his balls tightening and tugged at Alfred's hair, trying to pull him off like a stubborn puppy who wouldn't let go of a toy. "A-Al!" he called desperately, the coil in his stomach tightening. He propped up on his elbows.

"Forfeit?" Al rasped, his pupils blown wide and glossed over. Matt chuckled breathlessly. 

"N-no," he answered. "We're just gettin' started, eh?" Alfred's face flooded with color; he stood and kicked out of his jeans before he got back on the table, straddling Matt's waist and presenting the Canadian with a bottle of lube.

"When'd you get that?" Matt asked, raising an amused brow.

Alfred answered with a sultry "I keep it in my pocket" as Matt squirted some of the bottle's contents into his hand. 

"What a _naughty boy_ ," Matt said in mock disappointment. He pressed a finger easily into Alfred, curling and twisting until he was able to fit two, and then three. "Do you keep it around just for emergency fucks?" 

"Mm, yeah," Al answered, eyelids fluttering as Matthew's fingers worked inside of him, probing until they drew a moan from the American. He rocked against the Canadian's digits, positive that, if he had to, he could come from them alone. "Yeah, keep it with me so you can bend me over whenever and wherever you want…"

" _Naughty boy_ ," Matthew repeated, his voice thick with lust as he pulled his fingers out. Al held back a sigh at the loss and instead lined Matt's length up with his entrance, hovering above the tip and waiting for the go-ahead. Matt grinned and nodded. "Fuck yourself on my cock, Alfred." 

America groaned and let himself fall on Canada's dick, taking his time to feel each inch as it pressed against his walls and filled him until he felt near breaking in the best way. When he was completely seated on Matt, he lifted himself again. He set a steady rhythm, lifting and falling and rolling his hips. Matt deemed this pace too slow, apparently, because soon he was meeting Alfred's thrusts. The two grew sweaty and desperate in record time, both of them trying to push the other over the edge.

"Y-you gonna- _ah!_ \- You gonna come, Al?" Matthew stuttered, his cheeks, neck, and chest tainted with patches of a lovely rose color, which happened only when he was very embarrassed, flustered over a hockey match, or (better yet) on the verge of coming. 

"No- fuckfuck _fuck_ , good _God_ \- w-way!" Alfred answered, even as he bent forward so he could bury his face in the crook of Matt's neck. He bit the skin there to muffle a high whine. Matthew groaned internally, rocking his hips up smoothly and striking Alfred's prostate with such precision that the American's vision was littered with white stars.

"Not before you… 'm not gonna come 'til you… _Oh_ , please come, Mattie, _please come_ -"

" _God_ , Alfred," Matthew groaned, head rolling back over the edge of the table. He felt his toes curling, felt the tightening in his belly… "Fuck, Alfred! Oh, _fuck_ …" 

Alfred, at this point, was merely a pathetically limp mess of limbs. While he had managed to push himself off of Matt's chest, he was barely capable of doing anything but rocking back and forth; Matthew was the one doing the thrusting, with his heels propped against the tabletop and his knees bent to offer Alfred something to lean back against. 

The Canadian panted as he rolled his hips to move Alfred up and down his length, knowing he had hit the American's prostate head-on when Alfred let out a shattered cry and fell forward yet again against his slick chest. Alfred was tightening deliciously around his length, trying to milk the cum out of him, and it was too much. Neither could hold off any longer. 

"Gonna- We-" Matthew tried, slinging his arms under Alfred's armpits to grip the man. He clawed ruthlessly at Alfred's back as he pulled the American toward him before slamming him back down the length of his cock. "We- Together, _please_ , let's-"

"At the same time," Alfred offered huskily, nodding frantically. "Yeah, so close, I'm so close, Mattie, babe, you're so good, I'm gonna-"

" _Come_ ," Matthew snarled, and he thrusted _hard_ , hard enough to send Alfred's frame sliding perfectly against his, the American's cock rubbing against his stomach and giving him that beautiful friction that he needed- And oh, Mattie nailed his sweet spot and the boy _sobbed_. 

Alfred clung to Matthew as he shook violently, ribbons of white spilling from his dick endlessly. Matthew's jaw fell slack as Alfred tightened impossibly around him, pulsing and perfect. Through his haze, Alfred felt Matt's load shoot into him, warm and sticky, and he whined. 

As the two slowly regained some level of consciousness, Matthew found he didn't mind having a heavy, sweaty, cum-stained Alfred on top of him as much as he probably should have.

"Fuck," he said, his heart still thrumming in his ears. "That was amazing."

Alfred was silent for awhile, and Matthew was beginning to wonder if the American had fallen asleep when he whispered:

" _I won_."

Matt snorted in disbelief. "Are you serious?!"

"Yeah," Al insisted, his voice sleepy as his eyelids drooped. "I beat you by a second; you came before me. I win."

"You're ridiculous!" Matthew laughed, swatting the American's shoulder. "We came at the same time. Get off of me; we need to shower."

"Mm…" Alfred hummed contently, smirking even as he nodded off, _the proud bastard_. "I'm afraid I don't shower with sore losers."


End file.
